To Become
by Kay the Cricketed
Summary: [onesided YuuriWolfram] A simple introspective piece on Wolfram. Sometimes it's hardest to fight the battles you know you're going to lose.


_To Become_

By Kay

Disclaimer: I don't own KKM... 'cause, you know, I don't have enough money yet.

Author's Notes: One-sided Yuuri/Wolfram SLASH, which is no surprise. I don't really like this piece. It's amateur babble, really. No real plot or point, but it got written and uploaded, anyway. Whoops.

* * *

Wolfram is stubborn. He has always been this way, and the years will not erase that trait anytime soon, though they _have_ shown him often that the things he becomes stubborn over are often times futile attempts. He sees the wisdom of letting things go. It's just something else entirely to actually do so. Sometimes Wolfram thinks it's because he always wants so _much_ that he can't turn away or retreat, and stumbling back means the end of everything.

He doesn't like endings.

He doesn't like to lose.

It's always like this. He breaks before he bends. Cracks before he dodges. Takes the heat instead of seeking moderate ground. He grits his teeth against opposition and continues to push forward, and Conrad once told him this was why he made such a good soldier despite his young age-- beyond hopelessness, he will always take another step, regardless of the consequences.

Wolfram knows what it's like to feel battered. Bruised. Run over. He's lost before, because even stubbornness and determination can't make up for some things-- and he knows this, painfully accepts this, but that doesn't make it easier when Yuuri feels so very far away from him.

_'I want to become more to you than just another sword at your side.'_

He knows that Yuuri doesn't know what to feel about him. Even more than that, it only takes one glance at the soft, achingly brilliant expressions on Yuuri's face when he sees Wolfram's older brother-- there's no mistaking the glow to those smiles reserved only for Conrad. Somehow they have both missed it, Conrad and Yuuri, but Wolfram knows better and he sees it. He doesn't say anything because there's nowhere to start, no place to put a foothold and show them, and to be truthful... to be truthful, he is selfish in the end and clings desperately to their inattention to each other's desires. It is becoming his only hope.

Wolfram will not give up, even if the earth scorches his feet into the dirt. He will not stop moving forward, reaching out to touch Yuuri's warmth even if his fingers split and bleed. No sword of the enemy, no special boxes or powers, not even his family can keep him from stretching the limits and chipping away at himself. He is a wielder of flame, the greatest misfortune of them all, and has long lost the fear of being burnt.

Wolfram is stubborn. Even if he knows he has to let go, he won't. This is who Wolfram is, a part of him he wouldn't change even if he could. And Yuuri is worth it, he believes quietly in the corner of his heart, shyly infecting the rest of his entire mind and body. _'Yuuri is everything we could ever want,'_ they say, and Wolfram sometimes wants to just sit down and give up, crumble to pieces and cry because it's all so very, very _useless_ by now. The gears are set in motion.

He sees the end of the fight. There will be no draw, no victory lurking for him. It's all so stupid, Wolfram thinks bitterly sometimes, and unfair.

_'I want to become more than just a smile to greet your mornings.'_

Sometimes he gains a little ground. It's these moments that he clings to, anxiously hoping it's not entirely too late-- a quick, gentle smile in an unguarded moment, an accidental brush of Yuuri's hand, an unexpected compliment delivered without any reason or warning that will punch a hole through Wolfram's chest and steal his breath away for long after. Surely, Wolfram thinks when Yuuri is empty from his bed and home in his other world, surely this is enough to give me leverage.

Wolfram is an honest person, despite his often blunt way of showing it. It's getting harder and harder to lie to himself.

And it's the first time Wolfram has ever wanted to stop and just give in, cave to the irresistible plea for it all to be over, because he isn't sure how much longer he can stand this struggle. It is endless and painful; every inch costs him a drop of blood or more. But he tells himself, _'Yuuri is worth it,'_ and pays the price each and every time. He can't surrender anymore than he can stop breathing.

He wishes someone had taught him how, it would have made things easier. He wants to hate Conrad for that. But he can't. He could never hate Conrad, no matter how many times he feels that hole through his chest because of that human. Pretend and denial work a long way, but at the end there is only one person who ever touched him like glass. Like he could break.

_'I'm breaking, big brother,'_ Wolfram wants to say, but flattens his lips until they are the color of death.

_'I want to become more than just the shadow waiting behind your back.'_

In the end, Wolfram knows what will happen. It is game over, a clean loss, except that this is no game or sword-fight, and the penalty of failure is so far into the darkness that Wolfram is too afraid to look at it. He doesn't think he can do it. He's not strong enough to lose.

If he has to look at them, at _Yuuri_, and smile with as much sincerity and blank cheerfulness as he can. If he has to choke on the salt of the tears and say he's happy for them, if he has to secede to the greater victor, if he has to give up all those stupid dreams he's sick of having but can never get enough of, if he's left behind and out of place in their world forever--

He's not strong enough to forgive them. Maybe he can love them, because although he'll never say it they are the the ones he needs and cherishes the most, but he can't forgive them.

Beyond the end, he sees nothing but emptiness.

_'I want to become more than what I am, because it's the only way I'll ever catch even a piece of you for myself.'_

Wolfram is stubborn. He doesn't like to lose. He would rather destroy himself and turn everything to ash before he loses. Without thinking, without understanding, he already knows how far he will go, pushing onward even when his shoulders are too heavy, the world is too bleak, his feet drag across the ground, his mouth shutters with tight breath, and his eyes are dull and clouded.

There's too much at stake. Too much of himself to stop. Too much of everything he's always yearned for but never understood until a mysterious, foolish boy with dark eyes and eager grin fell into their world.

_'I want to become stronger than this, than you. Because with the way you're wearing me down, there won't be anything to protect me when I stop, Yuuri.'_

He loves him. So _much_, Wolfram loves him. It's frightening. It's infuriating. It's insane.

But then again, he went into this massacre knowing it wouldn't be enough. And knowing that, Wolfram should let go, but it's because he'll never win that he doesn't. Because Wolfram is stubborn and prideful, easily wounded and readily able to fall, and he'll take every moment he can before time completely runs out.

Whenever he looks at Yuuri, he remembers why he stands up for every time he's knocked down, and for each unbidden smile, Wolfram finds he can dredge up one in return from the hollowed pit of his stomach. It's a vicious cycle. It's what he wakes up for in the mornings.

_'I want to become yours.'_

_End_


End file.
